Without A Queen
by Cielito
Summary: He was tired and edgy. Things had gone down a different path, but they were safe. She was safe. But something didn't feel right.


Category: Fic  
Title: Without a Queen  
Aurthor: Jeyla4ever/Cielito  
Rating: G

Pairing: John and Teyla  
Warning: Season 5 spoilers episode tag: 5 x 08 The Queen  
Disclaimer: I do not own or have rights to SGA  
Size: 1659  
Comments: Thank you to Steph and Pauline who helped me with this fic.

And this one goes out to all the girls in Gateworld who celebrated a birthday in September:

Elfinn, Hope, Yappichick, Loveconquers, AlbinomonkeC and Hannanora

Enjoy!

And I'd love some feedback.

**Without a Queen**

He was tired and edgy. Things had gone down a different path, but they were safe. She was safe. But something didn't feel right.

At first, he wasn't sure what to do. None of them could have predicted the possession and turmoil within her that would eventually reign over.

He suspected something was wrong when she entered the puddle jumper, but he let it pass. He liked the way she carried herself, fiercely and with determination, even though he knew she was going through a hard time with all of this. Hell, _he_ was still having a hard time!

Yet, he liked the way her black hair glittered with golden highlights in the pale gray lights. The way her dark nightgown flowed past her form lighted by the trance of the silver moon. The way she glowed with her shiny, silvery skin tone in her Wraith-like features.

He knew he should be _scared as hell_, but deep down he knew she was still Teyla underneath all that transformation. He was certain of it and with admiration he understood that she wasn't playing a role, for she was always meant to be a queen.

John had followed her as she walked past Ronon and Rodney, as she claimed her place next to him, and as she slightly gazed back at the reign she was leaving behind. Not wanting to approach her just yet, afraid she might recognize his fear, his concern, his weakness, he walked past her without pause.

If he knew anything, this was something familiar to him. He wanted her to get accustomed to the way things were, slowly. But something else was still influencing her, casting her aside, luring her away from him, and he didn't like it one bit. He didn't like the unknown, especially when the stakes were so high, especially when it came to her.

The minute she walked into Atlantis, he knew he'd lost control. Within seconds, she had claimed her first victim. Terror filled his every being, and he shifted back into military mode.

Her eyes suddenly on him made him shudder. The way they glowed, the way it immobilized him. The way she flexed her body moving closer to him. A guttural rumbling filled her throat, drawing him to her savagery, her freedom, her power, and her regal form. She growled a low sound and he sensed her unrest, the continual struggle within her.

"This _**wasn't**_ part of the plan, Teyla!"

"How dare you point that at me? I am your Queen! I command you…"

"Teyla, snap out of it!" he yelled, tensely aiming his stunner right before her.

He had watched her and waited for her next move. No words from her, only a harsh, gasping succession of breaths. Her body writhed, her eyes burned into him. She was fighting her own demons.

"Teyla!" She flung her head away with a snarl, and a blue flash with an accustomed sound forced John to step back away from her, only for a second.

A sound of terror-stricken whining came from her. John stepped forward and grabbed her descending form. Her eyes moved wildly, her great black eyes with pupils like specks of soot.

His stomach muscles jerked in. With her last bit of strength her hands lashed out again. Clasping her sharp-pointed fingers, tearing through his clothing, into his chest, and penetrating through his skin. She commanded weakly, "I am your Queen!"

With a sudden rattling gasp, her body twisted. He sensed her fear and agitation as her body flaccidly succumbed in his arms.

Faintly, he heard the bustling around him, and a hand tightened his shoulders. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her chest rise and fall. She hadn't accepted yet the tame part of herself, the one that made her who she was, the one that he…

"Colonel Sheppard, we need to take her to the infirmary, immediately." With one sweep, he lifted her limp form, protectively guarding her in his arms.

Much later that night, wanting to be near her, he sat by her bed in the infirmary. There was little evidence of physical Wraith features in her still body. The surgery was successful and all was somewhat back to normal. What Keller described as a strangely uncomplicated procedure still remained to be true for what Teyla would deal with on a deeper, more psychological experience. Weeks would pass before any sort of normalcy would ever grace her true form. And John knew he had to see her through this.

John watched her tensely. It amazed him that after everything that she had been through physically, her body still functioned as if she hadn't just been through several hours of surgery, yet again. She tossed and turned and moaned in her sleep until the sheets were all up in a heap on the floor. She rolled from side to side, bathed in perspiration, shaking in fear, terror masking her face. At one point, she exploded upright in her bed, waking him nervously. She raised her head, and he could feel her attempting to read his mind, thirsting for his blood. He watched her cautiously, waiting, for he'd be damned if he was going to let her suffer.

Her eyes pried open. Instinctively, he searched the dark pool of her eyes, and his heart thundered. Abruptly, her hands closed over his wrists and her body began to turn towards him. He felt a twinge, but for some affliction he didn't understand, an experimental fervor had seized him, and he could think of nothing and no one else but her.

With her eyes closed, she gasped as her fingers touched his forearm. With a beastly assault, her dark nails dug into his flesh and with a hiss, she slowly continued to feed her curiosity of his carnage.

She moved closer to his face. The heat of her body permeated through his skin. His throat moved. The feeling of careless brutality screamed in his mind, mercilessly. He recognized her calling, but he also knew she had the capability to kill him if she wanted to. Teeth clenched, fingers tightened into fists, he stood there, holding back his own carnal instinct to explore her sensuously barren body.

Suddenly, a bolt of self-accusation struck him; he closed his eyes, appalled by his own stupidity! How could he think like this at a time when she was clamoring to tear off the beast within?

But her breath nuzzled his ear, and his hands glided along her back, up to the nape of her neck and raked into her hair. Then her lips brushed his. Intoxicated by her presence, his mind was in a haze, wavering.

A sudden noise in the background broke their trance, and he stopped moving. Her hands curled slowly, she stopped muttering, and her breathing steadied. Already, John could feel her flesh growing cold.

"Is everything alright, Colonel?" a voice sounded from behind the curtains.

"Yes," he cleared his throat, "Everything is fine, Doc."

Her head was laid back against the pillow when John turned his attention back to her. He breathed deeply, regaining his bearings, and carefully arranged the covers over her sleeping form.

His fingers tightened slowly, and he sank forward on his chest. Again, his thoughts broke off as he felt her hand move close to his. Her chest rose and fell with harsh movements, and his heart beat senselessly. His veins throbbed purposely; his bones and muscles flexed lively, all reacting to the feel of her touch.

He had no idea how long he'd been there, standing, holding on to a motionless, unconscious body. The tension sank; he drew in breath again. She was here, alive and untouched by harm.

He straightened up and moved away from her. With one last glance in her direction, he turned away with a sigh and left quietly so as not to disturb her.

It took him about a half hour to reach his quarters. He had been roaming the hallways in circles unwilling to let his mind rest. In the quiet of his room, in the darkness that surrounded him, one hand ran nervously through his hair. His skin prickled at the realization that in that one split of a second he would have yielded to her without any remorse or restraints. Bounded deep within her chains was where he belonged, was where he longed to be, for no other woman possessed him like she did.

Slowly, his hand skimmed the faint nail marks she'd left on his chest. His heart contracted, sweat poured down his forehead, and his body shook feverishly.

"_Most Wraith seek to be ruled. They fear being without a Queen",_ he recalled Todd's words.

And that's when it him. Teyla is Queen of an entire Hive, Queen of an entire army, a new and powerful Alliance. But that's not all. For the first time in his entire life, John was envious. Envious of the Wraith who now breathe and heed to her every word, those willing to give their life for her, and whose lives he spared because of her. Existing only to honor, serve, and worship their Queen till death do them part.

And while the Wraith beast within Teyla ceased to exist, his was just surfacing. For John is no Wraith, but he wanted nothing more than Teyla to be his Queen.

_Fin_


End file.
